Waiting for Hope

Funk #49

Funk #49 - the James gang

He couldn't remember what day it was. Or what time it was. Hell, he could barely remember what year it was. Had it been a day, two, a week? Ethan had no idea. Sleep. That's the only time he felt peace. Being awake was painful, sleeping was better.

That's what he had been doing for who knows how long. He would wake up and remember. So after taking care of basic necessities, he would simply go back to sleep. He was begining to wonder how long he would be able to keep this up. Eventually his body would refuse the oblivion that he desperately sought. Eventually he would have to face the truth. But not now.

At one point, his mom had made him get up and go with her, forcing clean clothes on him and shoving him into the car. He was only semi aware of driving somewhere. When they arrived, he felt like a toddler throwing a fit. He refused to get out of the car. Will's funeral.

His mom imparted her uncanny wisdom in that moment.

"I know you don't want to be here, but this is the only chance you'll get to show your respect and love for him. If you don't go, you'll regret it forever."

But that wasn't what he would regret forever. Not even close.

He went anyway, somehow plastering a functioning facial expression although all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide. It was his fault. He knew everyone looked at him and felt the same. He did this, to everyone, to himself, to Will's family, to Will.

He didn't deserve to be happy anymore. He didn't deserve to enjoy life. He deserved to be miserable so he let himself get swallowed in it. Watching Will's mom cry, his dad sit stoicley, his brother watch with red and swollen eyes. It wasn't punishment enough. Staring at the casket was not even a fitting punishment at that point. Ethan was so numb that the misery was hardly felt. Something told him it was only a matter of time before he broke.

That was before, but he was unaware of how much time had passed between the funeral and this moment. He was a disheveled mess, cloudy thinking, depression washing over him. He had no clue how to get up and move through life anymore.

His mom told him that the team was getting together at north beach to say goodbye, hold some type of memorial. Everyone would be there.

And that's what finally did it.

Ethan broke.

Uncontrollable sobs of pain and anguish. Hardly able to breathe through the shaking, trembling and tears. He hadn't cried like that, well, ever. Not even when his dad left them.

His mom just held him. She was wise enough to realize that no words spoken could possibly ease his torment. Nothing she could say would fix this. So instead she let him weep like a child.

There was no way he could face that beach, let alone the friends gathered there. He couldn't even face himself at that point. It was too much. The pain of losing his best friend because of his stupid choices was more than he knew how to deal with. How was he supposed to move on with life after this?

"Ethan, I know this hurts more than anything you have dealt with before. But you will get through this. I think there will always be pain, but it will get better."

"Mom, I can't do this. I can't face them. It's my fault. It's my fault."

"I know you feel that way, but would Will want you to blame yourself? You didn't force him to do anything, he was there willingly. Stop taking all of the blame."

Ethan scoffed at that, " well, it's too late for that. The blame IS all mine, so I have to take it."

"Who else am I supposed to blame? Her? She wasn't even there." Ethan couldn't bring himself to say her name. But he suddenly thought that if she had been there it wouldn't have happened in the first place. He wanted to blame her just to get rid of some of the guilt. But how could he, she had no idea about any of this anyway. No, the blame was his, and his alone.